


On Desire

by theoxfordcommando



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Demisexual Fenris, M/M, projecting onto fictional character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 12:33:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9235427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoxfordcommando/pseuds/theoxfordcommando
Summary: Fenris was…unaccustomed to desire. He understood it of course, from a theoretical standpoint, an outside observer. He saw the power it held over men and women alike but despite a logical comprehension, the whole thing never made sense in any tangible way.Musings on a demisexual Fenris and his relationship with one Garrett Hawke





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this completely self-serving ficlet where I essentially channel my personal emotions through Fenris. Whoops.  
> This is for a demisexual Fenris just sort of working through his thoughts.

Fenris was…unaccustomed to desire. He understood it of course, from a theoretical standpoint, an outside observer. He saw the power it held over men and women alike but despite a logical comprehension, the whole thing never made sense in any tangible way.

Fenris supposed that perhaps he merely did not experience desire. Chalking it up to simply one other thing that been stolen from him by a vile magister. 

But it was not as though he felt nothing. He could want for things, could find items and people alike to be aesthetically pleasing, but this concept of desire, of an all-consuming fire with the power to utterly overwhelm the senses, was foreign to him. 

Some days, he decided this was for the best. One less distraction, one less stumbling block that could potentially stand in his was to freedom. After all, he could hardly afford to get caught up in someone with Danarius nipping at his heels. 

On darker days, he resented it bitterly. He’d pass couples in the high street of some town or another, utterly absorbed in each other. Truly, it was rather sickening, but some days it thrust into sharp focus how alone the elf was. How alone he had always been. 

The less reputable inns he often found himself staying the night in were full of the sounds of desire. Sharp, messy, ugly sounds that he would attempt to drown out. Most nights it was merely irritating, but some nights it was unbearable, leaving him hunched over on the soiled mattress du jour, straw pricking at his legs through his trousers, hands pressed tight over his ears. Most of all, it was baffling. It was not as though his body didn’t work. He was fully functional, merely disinterested. 

After years on the run, the issue was placed, for the most part, on the back burner. So what if he would never find anyone who struck his fancy. He didn’t need anyone. He knew how to be alone. 

And then he found himself in Kirkwall. And the mercenary he had indirectly hired to spring one of Danarius’ traps was looking at him with this small half smile and a distinct glimmer in his amber eyes. And like a punch to the gut, Fenris felt the stirrings of something he had long ago resigned himself to never knowing. He found himself, honor-bound, offering his services to this man, this mage, later the same evening. The man -Hawke- had accepted. And yet the concept didn’t terrify him in the way he imagined it should have. Despite himself, he was curious. He wanted to chase the feeling that was burning low in his gut. Interest. Intrigue. Perhaps more. 

The feeling never subsided. And three years in, still at Hawke’s side, Fenris allowed himself to realize what it was. Standing there by the hearth of the Hawke family manor, hours after ending the life of a woman who had tormented him relentlessly, looking into the mage’s sparkling eyes, rich with concern, Fenris understood. 

It was desire he felt for Hawke. 

No. It was more. He wanted him wholly and completely. 

And that thought did scare him, but it was ignored in favor of the sheer wonder at the fact that he could want. He lunged at Hawke, the desire consuming him, burning him up from the inside, and as he kissed the man with everything he had, a part of him couldn’t help but marvel at the feeling. So this was desire, the force that had the power to destroy all. And as Fenris clenched a fist in Hawke’s hair, swallowing his moan as his other hand ran down to grasp intently at the mage’s hip, he understood.


End file.
